Of Chicken Soup and Family Memories
by SabbyStarlight
Summary: Jack finds himself taking care of a sick Riley, just like he used to when she was a kid.


**Wow, two fics already this week! I actually wrote this a few weeks ago when I was sick and I'm just now getting around to editing and posting it. I love that now that everything with Riley's mom has been cleared up she and Jack have the opportunity for amazing father/daughter-ish moments. I think that has great potential and it's little things like that that the writers are gonna have to start focusing and expanding on if they want to keep this show going for many more seasons. And I for one, really want it to. So I wrote this because I was sick and wasn't lucky enough to have a Jack Dalton to take care of me and there are not NEARLY enough sick fics in this fandom yet.**

"Hey! Riley! You in there?" Jack yelled as he pounded on the door of Riley's apartment. Still not getting any answer, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket to call Mac, not even needing to look at the numbers as he dialed because he used them so often.

"No answer at her place either?" Mac asked instead of answering the phone with a typical greeting.

"Nothin." Jack confirmed. "Something's up, Mac. She doesn't show up for work, she's not answering calls from you, me, even Bozer. And now she won't answer the door? You remember what happened last time. We almost waited too long. I'm using the key."

"The 'I'm giving you this key to use only in case of a total emergency. If you use it an any other situation you will live to regret it, if I decide to let you live at all.' key? You willing to risk it, man? I mean, I'd give her another hour or so. We haven't gotten ahold of her mom yet, there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this."

Jack was flipping through the keys on his keyring as he half listened to his partner. "No way, Mac. Something's not right. I can feel it."

Mac sighed as he heard the sound of a lock tumbling open on the other side of the call. "Keep me updated, alright?"

"Always do." Jack answered before hanging up the phone and drawing his gun from the waistband of his jeans.

"Riley?" He asked quietly as he entered the apartment and gently kicked the door shut behind him. "You home?" His well-trained eyes quickly scanned the place, registering the jacket and shoes beside the door telling him that she most likely hadn't left, at least of her own free will. The television still hanging on the wall, laptop open on the coffee table, and the various other techie tools that he didn't understand the purpose of littered throughout the room ruled out a robbery. It wasn't overly messy , no more so than any other young woman in her early twenties place would be, so it didn't look like anyone had been searching for something.

He moved on to the kitchen, gun still drawn, and found a takeout box from the closest Thai restaurant on the counter, half full. One plate, fork, and glass sat unwashed in the sink. Not enough for more than one person so she had at least eaten alone last night. He was about to move on to checking the bathroom when he heard what sounded suspiciously like a sneeze coming from the direction of Riley's closed bedroom door.

He moved quickly across the floor and silently turned the doorknob, the open curtains revealing the sparsely furnished bedroom. A dresser against the far wall, overflowing hamper next to it, an armchair crammed into the corner of the room beside a floor lamp, and a bed in the middle. A bed with a pile of black curls spilling from the covers.

"Hey. Ri. Wake up." Jack said softly, reaching out a foot and kicking the side of the mattress. When she didn't stir he resorted to poking the Riley-sized pile of blankets.

She rolled over with a groan and flipped back the edge of the covers, cracking open one chocolate brown eye. "Jack?" She asked hoarsely.

"The one and only." He answered.

"Why are you here?" She asked. "And what's with the gun?"

Jack quickly looked down to his right hand, sure enough finding his gun still drawn. "Sorry. Habit. I came over here to find you! You had us all worried something was seriously wrong! And you just overslept? I thought I missed out on your angsty teenage years."

"Didn't oversleep." She mumbled as she rolled over, turning away from Jack. "Was gonna call in the morning."

"Well it's currently," Jack paused and looked at his watch. "10:46. AM. So yeah. That qualifies as morning. At least it did last time I checked."

"Is it really?" She asked, pulling the blankets back from her face again and grimacing at the sunlight. "Crap. I thought I just laid back down for a few minutes…" She said as her words trailed off into a hacking cough.

"Hey now, you alright?" Jack asked, all traces of anger gone as he tucked his gun back into his belt and sat down on the side of the bed.

"I'm fine." She insisted once she caught her breath.

"Like hell, you are." Jack huffed, noticing for the first time the young woman's flushed cheeks, despite the fact that she seemed to be shivering underneath all the blankets. "You're sick."

"A little." She admitted. "I can still go to work though." She started to sit up but was stopped by a resisting hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah you're not going anywhere, darlin'. Last thing we need is the whole foundation coming down with the flu. You and your germs are gonna stay right here." Jack grinned, though concern kept the smile from reaching his eyes.

He knew his instincts were right and Riley was feeling a lot worse than she admitted when she gave in without an argument and collapsed back into the bed. "You better go." She said after another cough. "They're gonna be mad enough that I didn't show up, and now you're late."

"I was serious about the foundation not wantin' your germs. I'm not going in and spreading 'em around to everyone for ya." He raised a hand and pressed the underhand of his wrist to Riley's forehead, wincing at the raging heat he felt. His hand slipped down, as if on autopilot, and gently rested on her cheek, thumb brushing back and forth slowly. He bit back a laugh when Riley, half asleep already, turned her face in towards his hand.

"Don't fall asleep on me yet, kiddo." Jack said softly, pulling his hand back and not missing the unhappy sound Riley made as the comforting coolness was taken away. "You hear me?"

"Jack just go away. I'll be fine once I sleep this off." She mumbled in a tone that almost would have been intimidating if she hadn't ended the short speech with a sneeze.

Jack blatantly ignored her. "You taken anything yet?" He asked. But since two could play at the game of ignoring one another Riley chose not to answer him. "Come on, Ri." He continued. "The sooner you answer me the sooner I'll shut up." He promised in a sing-song voice.

"Didn't have anything to take." She answered finally. "I just moved in a couple months ago, haven't gotten around to stocking the medicine cabinet."

"No Tylenol, Benadryl, nothin'?" Jack asked.

Riley sent a watery eyed, sniffly nose, but still threatening, glare his direction in lieu of an answer.

Jack sighed. "Alright." He declared, clapping his hands on his knees as he stood up. "You're gonna stay right here and do absolutely nothing but sleep and work on feelin' better. I'm gonna run out for a few minutes and pick you up some cold meds. And call Mac and let him know what's goin' on. I'll be back in twenty, okay?"

"You don't have to…" Riley started but Jack stopped her. "I know I don't have to. But I am. So quit arguin' about it and go back to sleep." He ordered as he left the room and quietly locked the apartment behind him.

He returned, exactly nineteen minutes later, with three bags from the local drugstore in hand and a fully informed partner holding down the fort back at the office.

Once he had quietly set the bags on the kitchen table, he headed towards Riley's room with a bottle of Gatorade and three different boxes of cold medicine in one hand and a box of tissues and bag of cough drops in the other, smiling down at the once again sleeping young woman with fondness as he placed the items on her nightstand. He resumed his spot sitting on the bed beside her before waking her up, not-so-subtly brushing a wayward curl away from her face. "Hey kiddo, wake up for me."

"You just told me to go to sleep." Riley argued, even though she opened her eyes anyway.

Jack grinned. "Yeah well now I need you awake for a few minutes. You gotta tell me what all's wrong so I know which of these to give you." He held up the three different boxes of cold medication.

"Headache, sore throat, can't breathe." Riley admitted. "And there's this big goon that keeps bothering me and won't let me sleep. Seriously, Jack I'll be fine in like, two days if I can just sleep it off."

"Yeah well you're gonna take these anyway." He said, the tone of his voice making it very clear that saying no wasn't an option.

"Fine." Riley agreed, sitting up and kicking the blankets down to her ankles, the heat from them suddenly overwhelmingly oppressive.

She held out her hand and he handed her two tablets before twisting the top off the bottle of Gatorade and passing it to her as well. "I remembered grape was your favorite. When you were little." He said, embarrassment keeping him from meeting her eyes.

"It still is." She assured him after swallowing the medicine. Jack smiled proudly before announcing, "Okay. Now you can go back to sleep and I won't bother you this time." Riley nodded and layed back down, Jack automatically reached down and pulled the bed sheet up over her. "You need anything else?" He asked softly.

Riley shook her head no and Jack stood up to leave, walking across the room and drawing the curtains closed before he left. He paused as he passed her bed again, reaching out and checking her fever once more. Having assumed the young woman was already asleep, Jack was surprised when she reached out, catching his hand as he pulled his wrist away from her head. "Thanks Jack." She said softly.

"No problem," He assured her, his smile bright in the dark room. "Hey, just yell if you need me, ya hear? I'll be right in the next room."

"You're staying?"

"Of course I'm staying. I'm not gonna leave you here alone when you're sick." Jack gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Now go to sleep."

"Kay…" Riley agreed as she closed her eyes and snuggled down further into the bed.

Jack had to keep reminding himself that despite what his instincts were telling him, Riley would find it weird if he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her forehead. So instead he settled for gently placing her hand back on the bed and smoothing out another blanket over her before exiting the room, leaving the door open part-way so he could hear if she called for him.

It was almost three hours later when Jack heard another round of coughing coming from Riley's room. When it hadn't stopped after a few minutes he got up to go check on her. "You alright?" He asked quietly as he peered into the darkened room, finding Riley sitting up and placing the bag of cough drops he had brought her back on the nightstand.

"Honestly?" Riley said with a weak smile. "I feel pretty horrible."

"You feel up to some lunch?" Jack asked. "Might make ya feel better."

"Sure. I guess. There's a drawer of take-out menus in the kitchen…" She started but Jack dismissed her with a wave of his hand as he left the room, returning ten minutes later with a steaming bowl of soup.

"Is this chicken and stars?" Riley asked, not even attempting to hide the smile on her face as Jack handed the bowl to her. "You would make this for me all the time when I was sick as a kid." Riley reminded him.

Jack laughed. "I wouldn't say it was all the time. I only know of you gettin' sick like, once or twice. But yeah." He paused, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure you would remember."

"Of course I remember." Riley said after taking a bite. "It was the only thing you could cook."

"Hey now! I'm an awesome cook!" Jack protested.

"You're really not. At all. But you could always make soup." Riley told him.

"It's just heatin' up a can of soup, Ri. It ain't that hard." He said as he sat down at the foot of her bed.

"Well it always made me feel better." She assured him. "You know, there was this one time after you le…" Her voice trailed off, afraid to finish what she had began to say.

"After I left." Jack spoke for her.

"Yeah. After that. The first time I got sick and you weren't there. I asked Mom to make this for me." The young woman admitted. Jack tried to pretend that it didn't feel as if he had just been kicked in the gut.

"Oh yeah? How'd she do?" He asked.

"Didn't taste right. It wasn't the same." Riley answered with a shrug.

"How 'bout now?" Jack asked, nodding towards the already half empty bowl in Riley's hands.

"It's perfect." She assured him. "Tastes just like it did when I was a kid."

"Well that's cause it's just soup from a can." Jack teased. "Hell, I bet if you could find a can of that stuff from way back then it would taste exactly the same as the can I bought today."

"I still think it has something to do with who makes it." Riley said softly as she set the now empty bowl on her nightstand.

"You finished?" Jack asked, nodding towards the bowl. Riley nodded and went to curl back down into the covers but Jack stopped her. "Don't go gettin' too comfy just yet, you have another round of meds to take before you can go back to sleep." He ordered as he stood up and carried her bowl to the kitchen, returning with another grape Gatorade, cold from the fridge.

"Here." He said as he handed the sports drink off to the young woman and popped another dosage of cold and flu pills from their foil packaging.

"You know," Riley said once she had taken the medication and Jack had tucked her back into bed. "You're pretty good at this whole 'taking care of people' thing."

"Well Mac keeps me on my toes." Jack joked. "You would not believe how often that kid gets hurt on the job."

"I've worked with you both for months now and the only time I've ever seen him even get checked out by a medic was after that job in the prison." Riley said.

"Yeah. He has this thing with doctors. Doesn't like 'em. Never tells anyone when he's hurt. I can't even begin to count the times I've patched him up once we make it home."

Riley smiled. "Like you're any better."

"Alright, that's enough of story time." Jack announced, not acknowledging her last comment about his own stubbornness. "You know the drill. Get some rest, I'll be right out there." He pointed over his shoulder towards her living room.

"Thanks, Jack but you don't have to stay." She said.

"Yeah, but we both know I'm gonna anyway." Jack said with a wink. "Night."

"Night." She replied. As Jack turned to exit the room she said softly, "You know what? You would have made a great dad." His steps faltered for a moment but he didn't turn around or acknowledge her words, just shut the door behind him.

He never heard the words she whispered before falling back into a peaceful, healing sleep. "Are. You ARE a great dad."

Jack stopped once the door was shut behind him and leaned up against it, the wood cool through the back of his shirt. "Don't need kids of my own." Jack whispered though nobody could hear him. "I'm the luckiest dad in the world."

 **Yeah. There ya go. It was super weird writing Jack without Mac there to counter back, I feel like I have kinda gotten really comfortable writing their banter and wanted to try my hand at something else because I don't want to undermine the awesomeness of any of this show's other characters. But for the record, I missed Mac being there too.**

 **So whatcha think? I was really afraid that I would disappoint some of my super wonderful followers with this not being Mac and Jack centric, so if that's the case, I'm sorry, thanks for reading anyway, and I'll catch ya next time.**


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